Aside from all the firsts I experienced, some of my clearest memories of that trip are seeing the images and accounts of the heat wave on the news channels those nights.

There was that, and our drive through the neighborhood near the United Center where we encountered a group of black children playing at a fire hydrant. As my dad drove our minivan slowly past the children, it was him, I believe, who made a comment about the scene being an example of the Chicago culture. About a block later, one of us -- I don't remember who -- suggested we get a picture of it. So my mom, somewhat grudgingly, got out of the van and walked a few yards closer to the children to snap a photo of them playing. When she returned to the car, she muttered, "There, I got a picture of your culture."